


Control

by Precursor



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Crimson Days, Crimson doubles, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Hand Jobs, Healing Sex, Interspecies Relationship(s), Masturbation, Mind Meld, Mutual Masturbation, NSFW, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Recovery, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Space Magic, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-26 07:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13231197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Precursor/pseuds/Precursor
Summary: "Pain leads to perfection, Guardian.  Embrace it."-Lord Shaxx[Takes place between Rise of Iron and Destiny 2]





	1. Riskrunner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Charge your soul and let the electrons sing.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Zara Xoj**  
>  [Zar-ah Kozh]

* * *

* * *

                  reach 22 kills without defeat, and have no intention of stopping my rampage.  
**“They’re falling back to C,”** Declan says, **“Hang tight, Zara.**   **Coming to you.”**  
                The enemy Fireteam scatters, and the red indicators swivel on my helmet’s HUD.  
“Let them come…”  I aim my sights as I prepare to be outnumbered, “This Zone is mine.”  
                I’d faced worse odds, and I would not fall victim before _him._  
**“Zone C secure. All zones held, you have total control.”**  
                Lord Shaxx’s announcement over the comm relay fuels the bloodlust simmering in my veins.  
                The enemy closes in, and I stand alone. The storm surges, dancing from my fingertips for the Crucible Handler I seek so desperately to impress. He who is always watching, who measures the success of other Fireteams against _us_.  
                A shot pierces the air to the left of my cover, and I throw an arc grenade in response.  Lightning strikes three times, and the crackle of thunder wisps the vines trailing down a stone pillar.  
                Another kill confirmed.  
**“Hah!  Well executed!”**  
                I wet my mouth at the excitement in his voice, and my teeth catch my bottom lip in an anxious snare.  
                Footsteps bound off marble out of view, but my sight is not limited by the bounds of reality.  I send the Void forward, and decode the information it whispers in my mind.

  
_“A Hunter is barreling recklessly to the Zone marker._ _He is a brave one…and stupid to come so close to a Warlock.”_

  
                My finger squeezes my weapon’s trigger, and the arc-infused bullets tear his shields asunder.  He returns fire, and I duck to reload.  The Hunter lands before me, knife at the ready, swinging wildly at my throat.  I snap my palm, and static discharges around each of his limbs.  My pistol leaves its holster, and lands a hungry bullet in his skull.  
                24 confirmed kills without defeat.  
                An enemy Titan comes from behind, and I hear the summoning of power.  Fire takes to his palm in the shape of a hammer, and I aim to punish his ambition with more than mere firearms.  
                The ground is pushed away, and electrons pour from my soul as I am embraced in the Stormtrance.  I become lightning personified, and it spews from my palms in mad, snaking tendrils that ripple through the Titan’s armor.  
                I Blink to the right, dodging his hasty throw.  His shields break, and he searches for me in a panic.  Another hammer blazes a trail in my direction.  I jump as it engulfs the Zone below, and continue to electrocute him into a pile of disintegrating Light.  
                25 kills.  
**“My…this is…”** Shaxx’s breath shudders intimately as my reign of terror pleases him, **“This is beautiful…You continue to be my greatest success, Guardian.”**  
                His voice is low and taut, and its vigor tugs at my insides.  I am fed by his praise, and it drives me to fight harder - to render his previously set bars useless.  
                A sniper shot barrels from a narrow corridor and buries itself into a revived enemy.  He pays for his mistake with the highest form, and Declan’s kill pushes our team closer to victory.  
**“I’ve seen enough!”** Shaxx sounds both excited and disappointed, **“I’m calling this one!”**  
                I fear for the words he has for the Fireteam who thought they would be victorious.

 

…

 

                The Tower is hushed as dusk falls gracefully over the clouds.  The Postmaster gives me a message, urging me to meet with Ikora at a marked location.  Declan, Tessa, and Ivan give me a curious look.  
“What?”  
                Declan tosses his knife in his hand to keep himself occupied, “Always an over-achiever in there.”  
“Makes the rest of us look bad.” Ivan brushes off his Warlock bond, “Save some for us, next time?”  
“We won.  What more could you want?”  
“How about a chance to pummel some baddies of our own?” Tessa is large and armored, as a Titan should be.  
“I didn’t hear any complaints during our hunt for Oryx.”  
“Yeah, well this ain’t Oryx.” Declan points his knife at me, “We have reputations too, Xoj.”  
“Okay, okay.” I surrender to their envy, “Next time, I’ll show some restraint.”  
“Well when you say it like that, it just makes you sound condescending.” Ivan puts his hands on his hips.  
“Shh.” Tessa holds up a hand, “Maybe we’ve grown too complacent, need to step our game up.  Not her fault.”  
                I silently thank her for speaking the words that diplomacy forces down my throat.  
“Right.”  Ivan shakes his head as he leaves the group, “I’m hungry.  You guys want to come with me for some ramen while this one goes off to her secret meeting?”  
“Sure.” Declan huffs, the lights around his mouth blinking, “Keep us in the loop.”  
“Seriously.  You know how nosey we are.” Tessa gives me a wink as she leaves, “And don’t take their jealousy too personal.”  
“Oh, I won’t.” I wave to them as I leave towards the Hall of Guardians, “Trust me.”  
                I walk away with more than renown, as I have completed what I sought for most:  To make myself more of an asset to the Vanguard, and be noticed as different from the rest of the Guardians in the Crucible…  
                I hope.

 

…

 

                Ikora congratulates me on leading my Fireteam to set a record time in Control.  I receive it with grace, as she is my mentor and the woman I aspire to become. To be of the Vanguard is the highest of achievements, and to be praised by a member is the highest honor. But I am distracted by an urge to subtly glance over my shoulder at an argument booming from the Hall.  
“Do you like it better when Lord Saladin oversees these matches?”  Shaxx shouts over the relay, yelling at a Guardian in an ongoing match, “Do I look like I care?!  GET BACK IN THERE!”  
                He shakes his head, and grips the edge of his monitoring station.  
“We outta do something about that.” Cayde watches from the rim of his hood, “Seems like Mr. Kill-everything-that-moves has a few loose bolts.”  
“The only one here with loose bolts is you, Cayde.” Zavala laughs in the form of a grunt, “Literally.”  
“Oh, real funny, Zavala.  Real funny.”  
                Ikora rolls her eyes, and clicks buttons on her datapad, “Dismissed, Guardian.  Until next time.”  
“Yes, Master Rey.” I give her a casual curtsey as I take a step backwards, and turn towards the Hall exit.  
                He’s standing there, more relaxed now.  His knuckles do not dig into his hips in his stern stance, but flex eagerly at his sides.  His helmet is trained on me, and my heart jumps in my chest.  
                I regret taking my own helmet off, for I’m exposed and star struck.  I search for something to fixate on, and lower my head as I walk down the stairs from the Command Deck.  Seraph floats suspiciously over my shoulder, and keeps his voice low, “He’s watching us…”  
                For a Ghost, he loves to speak the obvious.  
“…I know.”  
                I hush him and keep my eyes averted.  I feel Shaxx’s stare burning on my skin as I pass between him and his assistant, stationed across the hall.  
“Guardian.”  
                My steps come to a pause, and I tell myself to pull it together, to stop letting the slightest utterance of his voice send sparks into my nerves.  Then, I turn to him.  
“Yes, Lord Shaxx?”  
“I…” He hesitates, and the fur on his collar shifts as he nods, “Good work out there, today.”  
                He holds a nervous undertone under the painted anger.  It’s something most unusual, coming from the war-forged Handler.  
“Thank you, My Lord.  The Crucible drives me unlike anything outside the City walls.”  
                He crosses his arms, and shakes his head in a chuckle, “My respect for you grows with every life you claim, Guardian.  Your Light is strong.”  
                My resolve melts, and I try to ignore the remnants pooling in my chest, “The Traveler has granted me the strength to lay waste to my enemies.  I will not let that go untested.”  
                His shoulders roll, and he watches his boots as he cracks his neck, “Your words give me hope for the next generations of Guardians to come, Warlock.  I look forward to your next deployment.”  
                I give him the most confident smile I can, “As do I.”  
                Of all I’ve encountered – the Vex, Cabal, Fallen, Taken and Hive…His presence has been the only one to shake my focus so effortlessly.  
                I have yet to act on it, and come to terms with the possibility of never being able to.  Politics have endless restraints, even on the Warlock famed for the assisted slaying of the greatest threats our City has ever known…  
                And fraternization with someone of authority would surely come with risks.

 

…

 

                My room is cluttered with Golden Age artifacts.  There was a time I had been so fixated on learning of my past life, nothing else mattered.  But now I lay on my bed, unarmored and freshly bathed, obsessed with a tangible being I cannot have.  I lie and tell myself it’s little more than a schoolgirl crush I crave to perpetuate.  
                But by the Light, do I _crave_ him…  
                Reminiscing on the way passion penetrates every word he speaks, my skin bristles.  I become lost in a dream of what his rough, battle-worn hands would feel like brushing across my skin, grabbing desperate fistfuls of my hair.  I imagine the weight of his body crushing mine, and what he looks like from under the helmet he wore, damaged from the Battle of Twilight Gap.  
                So valiantly he must have fought to earn such respect from the others of power.  
                Power…it radiates from him.  A will to claim all he wants, and the skill to see it through.  
                I want to be turned prisoner by that power; be the prize he seeks to claim.  
                The space between my thighs is hot to the touch.  I caress my breasts as I pretend my own calloused palms are his.  My fingers are no longer mine as their rigid tips circle my clit.  
                It sends flares through my core, and it only makes me need him more.  The pad of my fingertip dips slightly, and I sigh at the ready juices that cling to it.  It returns to where my folds meet, and I rub the spot harder.  
“Shaxx-”  
                A quiet moan escapes me as I pinch my nipple, wanting to feel his teeth close around it.  The vision of him handling me engulfs my will to stop, and I plunge two fingers inside myself.  They curl where I find to be the most sensitive.  
“Shaxx…” I whimper as I finger myself harder, disgruntled by the lack of length and girth.  
                I want him to stretch the tight walls that close around my hand, and know that day will never come.  
                But here, I can pretend…  
                I flail for the handle of my nightstand, and the drawer almost falls to the floor as I yank it open.  I pull my vibrator out and massage it against myself, priming it thoroughly before slipping it where my fingers left off.  
                I fuck myself, envisioning the violent thrusts of his hips.  The slapping noises from my wet slit become louder, and I _feel_ him on top of me.  My knees raise higher, touching my shoulders.  I can get deeper, then, but still not deep enough.  It feels good, if not sinful.  
“Shaxx!” I cry aloud, leaving my breast unattended to clamp my mouth.  
                A knock on my door interrupts my trance, and I freeze my disgraceful motions.  
“Xoj?” A muffled voice calls.  
                I consider the trickery of the Void, not sure if I’m hallucinating like previous nights.  
                My black robe unwinds from a hook on my wall, and quickly covers me.  I wipe my hand on the inside, and curse the smell of sex that fills my room as I toss the vibrator to my mattress.  
“Coming!” I call, voice cracking at the pulses in my throat.  
                My hair tickles my neck, and I pull it to one side.  I turn the door handle slowly, and open it just enough to see who came to visit at such a late hour.  
“Uh…Uhm-“  
“I apologize for…”  Shaxx’s helmet tips, and traces my body, “…disrupting you so late at night, Guardian.”  
                He presses his hand on the door, and opens it an inch farther.  
“It’s…no trouble…My Lord.”  I’m confused by his curiosity as he tries to peer inside my room.  
“I was walking to my Quarters, and I heard someone call for me that sounded a lot like you.  Are you alright?”  
                I swallow hard, embarrassed, “Yes, I’m fine.  I…I’m not sure who…”  
                My words fail, and I betray myself as I glance at my bed.  The vibrator.  The small stain underneath.  My eyelids flutter as I exhale, and I look back to him.  
                He sees it, too.  
“It _does_ get lonely at the top...” Shaxx remains locked on the toy sitting there, “Doesn’t it?”  
                I want to burst into tears, mortified by the discovery.  
“All power comes with a cost.  There are times I wish someone could…” My fist that holds the robe around me tightens, “…Could take it away, if only for a moment.”  
                This is my chance to null the tireless attraction.  Perhaps my only chance.  
“My Lord,” I try to distill the hunger in my voice, “Why don’t you come in?”  
                He pushes the door open with blinding speed, and locks it faster.  I stumble backwards, my hand releasing the folds of my robe to catch the edge of my desk.  My face becomes heated as a small window of my body is revealed to him.  
                Shaxx picks up the toy from my bed, and he straightens his back to eye it thoroughly, “What were you doing with this before I knocked on your door?”  
                He takes a step closer, and the leather covering his hand stretches over a further-tightening grip.  
“I…I was-“  
“Use your words, _Warlock.”_   He is all but yelling, struggling to keep his voice low.  
“I was pleasuring myself, Lord Shaxx.”  
“And was it _then_ that you felt it appropriate to call for me?”  
                I jump at his bark.  Not out of fear, but out of exhilaration.  The danger in his growl is both haunting and invigorating.  
“Please, I didn’t mean anything-“  
“Answer me.”  
                I gulp, and search my numbing mind for a respectable answer, “Yes.”  
“Show me.”  His arm shoots forward, and I scuttle closer to the desk, fearful for his knuckles’ impact.  
                I look at him confusedly, and my breathing hitches as he uses the tip of the vibrator to push away a flap of my robe.  A breast hangs freely, and my hands fall away all too cooperatively.  He opens the other side, and the robe now borders my frame.  
                A low groan comes from his helmet, and the leather pants he wears under his armored legs shifts.  He fumbles with his belt, and barks another command, “Show me, Zara.”  
                A balled hand slides into his unbuckled pants, and beats impatiently against his zipper.  
                I bite my lip, and sit on the desk.  The toy brushes against my slit, and I slide it in carefully.  
“Not there,” His free hand cups my hip, and a strong shove sends me toppling on my mattress as a small yelp escapes me, “There.”  
                The toy lands on my pillow, and I reach for it in desperation before flipping on my back.  My knees spread to reveal him hovering over me, his waist’s height at mine.  I slip into myself once again, and start masturbating for my new company’s enjoyment.  
                The fist in his pants starts pumping faster, and he groans as he watches me.  I’m trained on his rising erection, and how strongly it pokes against the leather.  
“Do you want to see it?”  He asks under strain.  
“Yes,” I moan as I pummel myself, “Yes-“  
                His cock slips out, and he continues to stroke it vigorously.  It’s long and thick and hard, and I lick my lips as I become more wet.  
“Harder,” Shaxx commands, “Fuck yourself harder.”  
                I comply, my wrist slamming against my hipbone.  My back arches, and I pull at my sheets.  My nipples burn for affection.  The tug in the back of my mind yearns for him so strongly it becomes painful.   
“I said harder, Guardian.  Harder!”  
                I fuck myself as hard as I can, and cover my mouth to mute trickling sounds of pleasure.  
“Faster,” He orders.  
                My arm becomes sore, and I close my eyes.  
“No.  Look at me.”  
                I listen, and find the light from my eyes shining on his steely cover, white and orange.  
“You aren’t doing it well enough.  You aren’t doing it right.”  
“I’m sorry-“  
                His hand leaves him and molds around my throat, the sweet scent of his cock filling my nose.  
“Did I say you could speak?” He roars.  
                I instinctively pull at his wrist, my shallow breaths escaping the constricting tunnels of my neck.  
                The toy starts moving between my legs.  He’s fucking me with it now, and his glove sticks against me with each thrust.  
“This is how you do it,” His chest armor is pressing against my breasts as his grip around my throat tightens, “Just like this.”  
                My eyes roll toward the ceiling, and he jerks my chin to him again, “I said look at me.”  
                He pushes the toy further, and it begins reaching areas previously unexplored.  It fills me over and over, leaving a hungry void between my legs with each retreat.  My lips part as I gasp for air, and I want him to kiss me more than _anything_.  
                To be controlled by him, marked by him, made _his_ , totally dominated and handled-  
“Do you feel powerless _now_ , Xoj?”  
                I sense something new shifting in him, and try to concentrate on the Void.

  
_“He wants me to say no.  He wants me to challenge him.”_

  
                And I want to deal with the consequences.  
“Answer me.”  
                My mind begins to haze, and I feel my consciousness slipping away.   
“No-” I choke.  
                He releases his hold at that, and I lay there gasping, panting for air as he drops the toy to the floor.  My hips roll in his grasp, and I’m flipped to my stomach.   
                His hand curls around the side of my face, and two leather-bound fingers plug my mouth.  
“And now?” His hard cock bounces up and down on my ass, and my patience is running low.  
                I bite down on his fingers, my teeth sinking into the leather- splintering it, gnawing on the foreign objects that threaten to make me choke.  Shaxx groans, and buries himself into me without a hint of gentleness.  
                His fingers slip from my teeth and my hair surrounds his fist, the roots crying under tension.  My chin is pointed to the ceiling as he pulls, using me as an anchor for his siege.  
                He’s fucking me so hard now, and a pinching feeling comes from deep within my abdomen.  His balls slap against my ass and my juices wet his cock. The bottom edge of his chest plate bruises me as his hips snap into mine.  I burn hot by the time he grabs one of my nipples, fiddling it between two greedy fingers.  
“And now?” He repeats himself.  
                My vision blurs as he sends me into a state of pain and ecstasy, but I want more.  I _need_ more.  My hunger has yet to be satiated.  
“No-“ I gasp, my throat still tight.  
                He presses the side of my face in a pillow, and my nose is clogged with the cotton case that covers it.  I sense something breaking in him.  
                His arm slams against the inside of my thigh, spreading my legs wider.   
                The mattress shifts, the knee he balanced himself on, leaving.  The cold armor of his ankle rubs against my leg, his foot planting firmly alongside it. I grit my teeth as he starts bucking against me violently, and I ignore my frazzling, sweating hair that’s twisted in knots under his palm.  
                Each vertical thrust stretches me out rougher than the last.  My back arches and my stomach pushes down, urging him to dive deeper.  
“And now?” He growls, pushing the swelling cheeks of my ass apart.  
“Yes,” I holler in the foam filling, “Yes, my Lord-”  
                His pulsing cock hardens at that.  His fistfuls of flesh squeeze, and the loose belts of his armor rattle at his effort.  There’s a trickle of sparks in my veins, burning on my skin, and every muscle in my body tightens like I’m about to burst.  I claw at the headboard, finding purchase on the low edge.  
“Shaxx!”  
                My insides explode, and I wriggle under his barring grip.  I bite down harder to mute my shouting, and my orgasm splatters against my thighs as he continues fucking me.  The pleasure I find in the pain he inflicts transcends me, and the world narrows to him.   He’s close, so close – I can feel it, I can sense it-  
                Shaxx groans and seats himself entirely, and I freeze as he spews warm cum against the bruising walls of my cunt.  It’s filling and relieving, exposing me to a sensation I’d never felt before.  I grow rigid, and my body goes numb.    
                He’d granted me my wish.  He stripped me of power, the curse I am blessed with.  He did this in a way I’d longed for quite some time.  
                But in this moment, he took something far more valuable; something I never intended to give anyone…  
                 Total control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never done first-person or present-tense before, but 2018 is going to start off with doing new things and "taking risks!" ;D  
> (Har har)
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Happy New Year everyone!


	2. Raze-Lighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“With your own hands you forged the mighty Raze-Lighter. Now take it in hand and feed its flames.”_
> 
>  

* * *

* * *

                he fire and fury he holds is like no other.  The heat of his rage warms my skin, for I sense him even at the greatest distance.  The brashness in his posture, the silent gurgles of anger stuck in his throat…I can feel, _everything._  
                I want to get lost in him.  I want to be engulfed by his flames.  
                And I hate him for it.  
“Well, Xoj? What do you think?” Declan looks at me.  
                I shift my lost gaze to Seraph, who hovers at my side.  
“She’d love to.” He answers for me, “We’ll go register right now.”  
                I give him and the rest of my team a nervous smile, and follow my Ghost through the Hangar.  
“What are we registering for?” I ask.  
                His blue bulb turns to me, “The Crimson Doubles.  You’re partnering with Declan.”  
“It’s that time of year already?”  
“Yep!  They made the announcement this morning, but you were too busy sleeping off your prior…Engagement.”  
                My brows pinch, “Don’t you judge me.”  
“Oh, I’m not.”  He turns forward, “Eyes up, Guardian.”  
                There’s a smile to his words, and my gut twists as I remember who runs the Crucible events.  Or rather, I remember who I must face in order to participate.  
                He’s standing there, making idle chat as groups register on digital screens.  
  
_“He scolds in disappointment, and praises in high regard.  He laughs when the weak approach, curious if they’ll break or if their partner will do all the work.  He wonders why the Traveler bestowed gifts on some of these pathetic excuses for Guardians.  He’s angry at himself for leaving you the way he did, and he’s taking it out on them.”_  
  
                I shake my head, reeling the Void back in the prison of my own consciousness.  I swallow hard, because I’ve never dealt with this before.  I open my eyes after taking an encouraging breath, and find him staring at me.  Expecting.  Waiting. _Wanting._  
                I take a step backwards, and feel a pang in my chest.  I turn my back, and the dismay is overwhelming.  There’s ice in my heart, and I stop my retreat.  All the conflicting emotions come from _him_.   
                My fists ball at my sides, frustrated by how my mind is no longer my own.  Refusing to make more of a fool out of myself, I march to the vacant panel in front of him.  I frantically search through the Fireteams, trying to find mine before he has a chance to say anything.  
“Zara.” He whispers.  
                My name is velvet on his tongue.  Velvet I want to cut with scissors and string along my neck as a trophy.  
“My Lord…”  
                I find Declan’s name, and drag it alongside mine.  I hit “register,” and let a calm breath escape as it’s accepted.  A notification immediately follows, “Registration Closed.  Please come back tomorrow.”  
  
“ _He did it on purpose.”_  
  
                He walks towards me.  I cock my chin, giving him a dangerous look.  
“I was hoping I could speak with you.”  He says.  
                The Guardians standing in line groan at the inability to register, and gasp at his address towards me.  But his feigned professionalism is almost insulting.  
“Go on.”  
                I don’t play into it.  
“In private.” He urges.  
                  I remind myself he is still my superior, and quake at the thought of crossing him publicly.  
“Of course.”  
                He gives me a nod, and leads me away from the crowd.  
                The way his shoulders roll marks his power.  The height in which he stands overshadows all else.  The weight of his armor proves his strength, toning the body forced to wear it.  
                I’ve tasted him.  Perhaps not as much or as direct as I would like, but I am unable to push the images of our encounter from my mind.   
                He stops, looks around, and turns to walk down a flight of stairs attached to the exterior of the Tower.  The metal grates that form the fire escape hang high above the City, with exhaust vents lining the edges.  We stand at the lowest platform in front of a locked service entrance.  We are alone, far below the bustling Tower Watch.  
“What is it?” I ask, my nerves too jostled to remain quiet.  
  
_“He regrets your time together.  Regrets leaving wordlessly after such an intimate moment, treating you, a hero, as if you were an easy make.”_  
  
“It’s fine, my Lord.” I cross my arms, leaning on the balcony’s railing, “There’s no need to feel ashamed.”  
                Shaxx becomes disgruntled, “My thoughts are _mine_ , and mine alone.  You’d do well to remember that.”  
“Believe me when I say, I wish that was the truth.”  
  
_“There is loneliness buried under layers of emotions he never shares with anyone.”_  
  
                The Void, more often than not, comes to me in crisp recollections of what it touches; but he is surrounded by complexity and mysterious notions.  
“Do you feel it, too?” I worry my question will push his simmering rage further.  
                He calms himself. Reels it in.  Tucks it in a box he’s long forgotten.  
“Yes.”  He takes to my side, and puts a hand on my hip, “Warlocks may hold a… _peculiar_ bond with the Void, but they are far from the only Guardians who do.”  
                His fingers trail up my side, tipping my face at him, his thumb padding along my lips.   
“I left in the manner I did because I was unsure if you were worth the risk.”   
                His numbness of fear is replaced by a stirred set of desire and lust.  It becomes my own, and a cleaved breath escapes me.  
“Are you…still unsure, my Lord?”  
                His thumb slips between my teeth, and gently presses against my tongue.  It tastes of oil and sweat, and somehow, it isn’t unpleasant.  
“I am unsure of many things, Guardian.”  His other hand molds around my shoulder, and pushes down, “But you? This…”  
                My knees thud against the grate, rattling the metal.  He hooks his thumb behind my bottom teeth, and pulls my nose against the hard tip rising in his pants.  
“I find solace in my newfound certainty.”  
                He is unstable compared to the night before.  His fingers don’t quite match the edges of his buckle, and he growls in frustration.  
“Please…Allow me, Lord Shaxx.”  My tongue swirls in my mouth, eager to receive him despite my frustrations aimed at his previous demeanor.  
                I take my time, and let his belts dangle while I unsnap each button with tantalizing “pops.”  His fingers lace in my hair, massaging my scalp caringly.  It feels nice; relaxing, even.  
                A smile creases my eyes as he watches me catch his zipper between my teeth, and pull it down in a wordless taunt.  
“You wanna stare me down?” He growls.  
                My palms push on his hips, and his back meets the wall.  I press my mouth against the wet spot on his undergarments, bouncing his covered balls on my tongue.  My fingers curl around the elastic band clinging to his waist, and I pull it down slowly.  
“You think you can take me?”  
                His cock springs free, erect and dripping with precum.   
                I breathe hot air on him, and shiver as the chill that runs up his spine transfers to mine.  He is excited, anxious, _ready._  
“Do _not_ test me, Xoj.”  
                My cheek brushes along his shaft as my tongue cups him, a smack coming from my lips as they release his swollen tip.  He tastes wonderful…Sweet, with a brush of salt.  His juices are sour, and I savor them.  I am steady in my movements, embracing every moment of power over him.  
“I warned you.”  
                My startled yelp is muted as he plugs my mouth, forcing my lips to expand around him.   
                His hips move on their own, his cock hitting the back of my throat and threatening to make me choke.  A hand reaches for my jaw, and pushes it upward.  My teeth graze his shaft, and he groans in delight.  
                My fingers sink in the soft spots between his plates of armor, and he pushes deeper.  My eyes sting with water, and my throat closes around him.  He jabs at me, urging me closer.  I gag, and inhale sharply through my nose.  Panic starts to engulf me, and a burning comes from my stomach.  
                But I am unwilling to give up, to fail at delivering what he wants.  I must overcome this objection that stands between pleasing him and letting him down.  
                He begins to withdraw, and the new anger I feel is my own.  My teeth close slightly in protest, and I arch my brow.  He freezes, and sweeps either side of my face, readjusting my hair behind my head.  
                I inch my lips towards the base of his cock, determined to swallow it.  My nose is only inches from his waist, and his tip gags me once again.  
                I growl in frustration, and he continues to massage the base of my skull.  It’s the last ounce of relaxation I need to restore confidence.  He must know what I am feeling, unless his timing with delicacy is a coincidence.  
“Your eyes…They’re so bright.” He slips himself free, “Orange, like fire…”  
                My eyes immediately lift to him.  I circle his tip with my tongue, letting him watch the saliva string from my mouth.  
                The tingling between my legs grows.  I lap the bottom of his shaft, and feel it on my clit.  
                I moan, pinning his hips under my palms as my head bobs on his cock.  My lips feel raw as they slide along it.  They near his waist, and my body shakes.   
“Maintain control,” He groans, looking to the sky, “I want _more_ , Guardian.”  
                He grips the bottom of my jaw, and his hips thrust forward.  His balls hit my chin as he unveils his leashed hunger.  Tears run down my face from the gagging that I am helpless to prevent.  The pain is worth the accomplishment, for it was as if I’d given him a new experience.  
“That’s it…”  
                He squeezes my head as he fucks my mouth.  His fingers curl, violent and angry as he makes me choke.  I concentrate on breathing through my nose, praying to the Light I don’t throw up.  
                He grunts every time his cock brushes the back of my throat, and he buckles over me.   I bend backwards, nearly falling on my ankles.  My nose begins to run, and I can barely see past the watery sheen forced in my eyes.  
                Shaxx takes a step back, and my hands meet the grates that dig into my knees.  I gasp for air, my chest rising and falling from deep inhales.  
                Two, strong arms wrap around my abdomen.  The floor pulls away, and I am but a doll in his grip.  My waist folds over the railing, my hands curling around the top rung.  My pants slip from my waist as an aircraft flies below, its engines booming against the metal side of the Tower.  
                A heavy chest plate weighs on my back, and a hand snakes along my throat.  His erection brushes against my ass.  His furred collar tickles my neck as he sweeps my hair to one side.  
“Would you like your reward, Zara?”  
                His wet cock slides along the entrance of my cunt, and I reach behind, caressing the back of his helmet.  
“Yes, my Lord-“  
                He tugs at my breast, still hiding underneath my robes, “Say my name.”  
“Shaxx,” I moan, pressing his head into the crook of my neck.  
“And what do you want me to do to you?”  
“Fuck me,” I beg, almost crying in desperation, “Fuck me, Shaxx-“  
                My walls squeeze against themselves, hungry for his cock to stretch them wide open.  His tip slides in slowly, and a whimper slips from my quivering lips.  
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?”  
                I arch my back, and push off the railing.  His shaft eases the tightness in my core, and just as quick as I forced him to fill me, I am empty again.  
                He spanks me, stinging me with his leather glove and making me shout.  I want him to do it again...  
“I _said,_ how badly do you want me to _fuck_ you, Zara?”  
                 ...And he does.  
“So bad,” I tremble at the sincerity, “Please, Shaxx – _please-_ “  
                A held breath leaves my lungs as he buries himself deep inside me.  
“Good,” He places a hand between my shoulder blades, “Because I’m going to fuck you where everyone can see.”  
                The railing crushes my stomach, but it doesn’t matter.  My hands take to the second rung, almost near my ankles, bracing myself as my legs spread open for him.  My cunt is dripping, the slapping noises loud as his bucking hips send ripples along my ass and his legs slam against my thighs.  
                He takes a fistful of my robe, bunching the layers at my back.  He pulls on them harder with each thrust, jabbing me with his hard, thick cock.  My mind begins to haze, and my face flushes.  
                His pleasure mingles with mine.  The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever dreamt of, and I cry out in ecstasy.  
“Yes,” He snarls, pounding me harder, “Tell the world that you are _mine.”_  
                I shout louder, my previous inhibitors of fucking in a somewhat public area, gone.  
                I _want_ everyone to know I’m worthy for him to take, and challenge anyone to pry him away.  
“I'm yours,” My nipples are hard, and the rough fabric of my garments rub against them, “I'm _all_ yours-"  
                With all my strength, I force him back, and we’re jostled as he collides with the wall again.  
                My arms lock, matching his rhythm.  Him pulling himself forward.  Me pushing myself backwards.  My palms are sweaty over the metal, and they slip as his power sends shock waves up to my fingertips.  
                A tossed glove lands to my right, and his fingers push my teeth aside to find my tongue.  I suck on them, and lick at their knuckles.  They’re scarred and rough, and before I have time to further explore them, they’re hiking up my robes and moving between my legs.  
                He rubs my clit now, in fast and vigorous circles.  
                It’s too much.  
                I shout as my legs begin to shake, and my knees buckle.  He angles his cock upwards, and pinches my clit.  
“Cum for me.”  
                I don’t want it to end.  I want to stay in this moment with him, to remain as one in body and mind; to feel his fever wash over me.  
“Don’t make me tell you twice…”  
                A hard push sends me stumbling forward, and I am pinned between the railing and his delicious weight.  The way he grinds his cock in me is primal, almost as if he can’t get deep enough.  
                My blood rushes behind my eyes as my arms fail to keep my neck upright.  I’m forced to watch ships fly over the bustling city that churns hundreds of miles below us.  I start to get dizzy, and my head becomes light.  
                My face goes numb, and I see stars.  The hairs on my arms stand.  Tremors take hold of my body.  A trickle leaves me, and I taste my own cum as his hand clamps over my mouth, muting sounds I make no conscious decision of letting loose.   
                Shaxx retreats, and rams me so hard that I’m standing on my toes.  He shatters, and hot streaks run down my naked thighs.  They seep into my pants pooled just above the boots laced to my knees.   There is a feeling other than sexual relief that soars between the two of us.  It’s something neither of us can identify, or want to.  There’s a hint of compassion in the way he empties me, hoists my pants up around my waist; in the way he lowers my robes and smooths the wrinkled fabric.  
                My body still numb and limp, he pulls my back into his chest, and we fall to the floor.  He leans against the wall, holding me in his lap.  I ignore the mess between my legs, and smile at the heavy pants coming from over my shoulder.  All that matters is that he is at peace, even if it fills him with confusion.  
                Because whether he knows it yet or not…  
                He’s mine, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you for the support, everyone! :)


	3. Nameless Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Strange things wake at the stroke of twelve.”_

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                he’s cold.  There’s ice on my neck, slithering down and leaving a trail of frost along my back.  
                She’s lonely.  That’s something more familiar.  A hollow feeling of not quite fitting in, despite the never-ending praise and respect.  
                She’s sad.  This, I have not felt in a long time.  Sorrow.  Self-loathing.  Doubt in one’s abilities.  
                I stare at the ceiling, willing the Void to shut… _up_.  
                It comes in shallow lights behind my eyelids, and slight whispers in my ears.  I wonder how Warlocks deal with it constantly, and grimace at the thought of how strong their connection must be maintained in order to harness their most innate abilities.  
                I begin to question the tales of the Bond, and scold myself for not considering the possibility of its coming.  To hinder a woman of her stature; to become a distraction…  
                What, I wonder, would Ikora say if she’d learn of what I’ve done to her most esteemed protégé?  Ikora, the Vanguard Warlock, the only contestant in the history of the Crucible to defeat me.  Her gift from the Light is like few I've ever seen.  
                Zara walks in her footsteps with grace and beauty, blazing a path of destruction in her wake…  
                We need her at her best.  The Tower, needs her at her best.  
                But _she_ , needs _me_.  
                And I will not ignore the call, no matter how tiresome it may seem.

 

…

 

                Her ship isn’t hard to find in the Hangar.  A Hildian Seeker, gifted by Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef…of the Awoken.  
“She’s on top.” Kagrox whispers, floating at my shoulder.  
“Should I…” I swallow, “What do I do?”  
“How am I supposed to know?” He parks himself in front of me, “This isn’t killing, fighting, or reviving, so I don’t have any advice to give here.”  
                I grunt, “Indeed.”  
                The bay door is open; an entire wall that breathes in the crisp, night air.  The silver panels of the floor reflect the light coming from the moon.  It gives Zara’s ship a faint glow, like a blue gem planted amongst decaying jump ships.  
                I lick my lips behind my helmet, and approach the side.  A light shines down on me, quickly disappearing.  
“That was Seraph.” Kagrox says.  
“I figured as much.”  
                A body shifts from where Seraph fled, and I grow rigid with anxiety.  Zara leans over, groaning under her breath, “I’m not in the mood…”  
                My brow tightens, and I dig my knuckles in my hips.  
“Not in the mood for what, exactly?”  
                She doesn’t answer.  I frown, and take a step back.  A Titan’s jump may not look as _pretty_ as a Warlock’s, but it’s more than _efficient_.  I catch the side of her ship, climbing the rest.  
                Her eyes are smoldering vermilion as she sees me.  She’s frightened.  
“What are you…” She scoots away from my hands as they flatten to pull myself up.  
                She’s wearing a light robe.  One meant for dress, not combat.  
“I came to keep you company.”  
                Her violet hair shifts across her face, the loose strands hiding her remorse.  
“You felt the Bond.”  She hugs her knees, resting her chin on her arms.  
                I sit next to her, balancing an elbow on my leg, “That is why I gave you the solution rather than question the problem.”  
                Her arms tighten, and her lips purse together.  
                The burning stars that grace the sky are warm in the Traveler’s shadow.  Zara seems so focused on it, as if trying to pry it open with pure will.  I sigh, and brush my knuckles across her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear.  
“You’ll do fine tomorrow.  With proper tactics and proper execution, a Fireteam of two Guardians can fight indefinitely. The Crimson Days are a chance to revel in this fact."  
                Her eyes flicker to me after I reassure her.  
“They are in celebration of a Warlock and a Hunter’s achievements, after all.  It’s the best team composition for the event, if you ask me.”  
                A smile tugs at her lips, even though she fights it.  
“Is that so?”  
“It is.”  
“Why?”  
                There’s a slight shift in her emotions as her interest peaks.  
“The answer to that question does not come without a story.”  
                She perks up, “Would you be so kind as to enlighten me, my Lord?”  
                I grunt, facing the Traveler.  The being we are tasked with protecting in order to safeguard the remnants of humanity.  
“Of course I’ll tell you the story of when the Guardians first encountered the Cabal...”  
                I slide behind her, letting my legs dangle on either side of the ship’s narrow hull.  Her waist is small in my hands, and she fits between my thighs perfectly.  
                She’s safe.  She knows it, too.  Not from anything that could slip past the Tower’s defenses, no, that would be impossible…but from the terrors that linger in her mind.  I am humbled by the premise that I make her feel such security.  
  
“It was the first days back on the Frontier, when we’d finally found a way to repower the old jump ships and explore what remained of the colonies.  There were two Guardians.  And while both served the Light, in all other ways, they were rivals.  One spent his days searching forgotten places for lost treasures.  The other sought ever greater challenges in a ceaseless quest for glory.”  
  
                Her neck rolls back, resting on my shoulder.  My arms wrap around her, undoing the row of buttons on her robe that stretch from her collar bones to her stomach.  She shivers, relaxing at the sound of my voice so close.  It is the first time I’ve seen it have that effect on someone, as it was usually quite the opposite.  
  
“One day, both Guardians detected a strange signal coming from a buried city on Mars. The Warlock, hoping to find forgotten caches, vowed to keep his secret until he alone had a chance to explore the site.  The Hunter, seeing a chance to earn the renown she craved, also told no one.”  
  
                She pulls each of her arms from the garment as I unwrap her like a gift.  Her skin matches the color of midnight with mixed hues of purple and blue.  
                Just the sight of her unclothed back is enough to make my blood swell between my legs.  It’s not my intention to please her in that way, at least, not tonight.  I regain my focus, and continue reciting the tale that Lord Saladin told me many times before.

“Thus, both Guardians walked into peril alone, and unprepared.  It was not long before their paths crossed.  The Warlock mocked his rival’s pride, the Hunter mocked her rival as a dirt-grabber.  In their anger, they turned on one another, and never saw danger on approach.”  
  
                My hands curl around her shoulders, and my thumbs press against the knots collected at the base of her neck.  They pop and roll under my strong grasp, and her relief seeps into my soul.  My _touch_ is also known to cause a different feeling upon contact.  The differences that reside in her confuse me.  
  
“The sand-eaters came in force.  The Centurions jumped into range before the Guardians could react.  The steps of the Colossus shook the ground.  The Phalanx’s shields created a wall that no weapon could penetrate, and the Legionaries moved in for the kill.”  
  
                I slide my hands down her sides, raising the hairs on her arms.  Having this power over the woman who’d entered the Vault of Glass…Who faced Crota.  Defeated Oryx. Aided the Reef and Lord Saladin alike.  It’s what draws me to her.  It makes _me_ feel powerful.  
                I remind myself, again, that this reunion is not about me.  
  
“Faced with certain destruction, the Guardians did the only thing they could…They fought.”  
  
                I press my thumbs along her spine, and they alternate as they climb each vertebrae.  They arch as my touch ascends, and the back of her head rolls against my furred pauldron.  Her eyes are closed.  She’s lost in comfort.  
  
“Back to back, they battled the Cabal for a day, and a night.  Black oil soaked into the sand until the ground was slick with death.  The shield and armor of the dead littered the battlefield, but still the Cabal came.  The Guardians died, revived, and died again.  Still they fought, protecting one another.”  
  
                My hands glide over the muscles in her arms, and find their way to her hands.  Her fingers interlock with mine, and cross over her naked chest in a hug.  
  
“With his last bit of strength, the Warlock used the Void to destroy their enemies.  And with her last bullet, the Hunter saved her friend from the Colossus.  At last, the battlefield fell silent, and only the Guardians stood.”  
  
                Her face is closer.  She looks at me with such reverence, and it’s all I want to kiss her.  To stop hiding behind this helmet.  The softness in my heart is foreign; it makes me feel weak.  
                She has wordlessly convinced me that she is worth the discomfort.  
  
“Abandoning their quest, the Guardians returned to the City to warn the Vanguard of the threat rising on Mars.  From that day to this, the pair have been the closest of companions. In their journeys together, they have found both riches and renown, but these things mean nothing…unless they are shared.”  
  
                The coldness of my armor pressed to her back renders her shaken by a chill.  Her mind clams up, pushing the sensation to mine.  She craves to be comforted in a different way; to be cared for unlike our previous encounters.  
  
“…These, were the Crimson Days.”  
  
                She does something unexpected.  She twists in my cradling arm, her fingers prying at the sheath that covers my neck like I’m an unclaimed treasure.  The collar slips from the rim of my helmet, and I jerk at her touch.  
                Her lips…They’re so, so soft.  
                I am paralyzed.  Stunted.  Her tongue glides across a vein pumping in my throat, fueling the staggering heart behind my armor.  Her teeth nibble on me, and I stretch my neck to reveal more of myself.  
                Her legs shuffle between mine, and a boot falls to the wing below us.  The other follows.  She’s crawling on top of me, reaching behind my head-  
                The cockpit doors of her ship spring open, and she pulls away.  
“In the chair.”  
                I do as she asks, willing to let her direct me, _this_ time.  
                It’s comfortable, red in color.  The cushions are thick, and the back of the seat buckles.  I fall backwards, jerked in place as it meets the floor.  The glass door remains aimed at the sky, but its not the Traveler I watch, now.  Rather, the stripping figure in front of it.  
                Zara turns her back to me, balancing herself on the edge of the cockpit and slips her pants out from under her.  Her full, round ass flattens against the metal, spilling over the edge.  
                I bite my lip, wanting to squeeze it, to feel it bouncing on top of me.  In the darkness of the moon’s reflection, I find one of her glowing eyes pointed at me from over her shoulder.  Directions are unnecessary for her next request.  
                I mold my hands around her hips, and pull her down to my lap.  Her head lands between my head and shoulder, and her back arches perfectly, _sharply_ around my chest plate.  She is sprawled towards the night sky, both of us surrendering to its gaze.  
                The cockpit cover lowers.  The whining, electric sounds the seals make as they lock into place are the last bit of privacy we need to continue our affair.  
                I take my gloves off, cupping one of her firm breasts in my hand.  It bulges between my knuckles, her deep-purple nipples hardening at the touch.  I hook her thigh on mine, and move my other hand between her legs.  She pushes my helmet to the side with her chin, and sucks on my neck again. My fingers claw up her thighs, forcing small hums from her.  
                She’s smooth.  I want to strip off the armor that hides my disgrace, and surrender to her.  I won’t.  I can’t.  But I want to.  And that’s more than I have ever felt with anyone.  
                She bends her hips, and I angle myself towards her.  I stuff her with my ready cock, shuddering as she sinks onto me.  My throat becomes taut, and my jaw clenches.  Her lips still locked on my neck, I look to the stars.  
                We become a mixture of wild lust and mixed emotions, and every effect I had on her came from a cause.  A cause that _I_ created for this angel that was so willing to accept me. The pleasure I give her is no longer restrained to her mind.  It pushes the breath from my lungs.   
“Shaxx…” She sighs.  
                I press her hips down to mine, and give her a steady push.  She trembles in my hands, ready to hold her still.  I can no longer tell if the way she feels clamping on my swollen cock is more pleasing than watching her twitch on _top_ of it.  
                She’s tight.  Wet.  The way my hands fit every nook and curve of her slender, strong body – she is made for me.  I am made for _her._  
                The soft moans she makes light my chest ablaze.  I can _smell_ how sweet she is, how badly she wants this.  It makes my mouth water, and I fight with the dark desires that cloud my mind.  
                I hit a spot that makes her jump; makes _me_ jump.  We pause, breathing heavy, the colors from us washed out by the moonlight shrouded in the veil of fogged glass.  I release her breast, and bury her face against my neck, planting my chin on her head.  Her fingers snake up to mine, and I push against the spot again. Her walls squeeze against me, the thickness of her juices coating me with each withdraw.  
                We start rolling our hips, and refuse to stop.  We make the same sounds of bliss, neither of us wanting to let go.  We’re being louder than we should, but we don’t care.  
                My lips tingle as I imagine hers pressing against them; stealing the pain and suffering this war for survival causes and tucking it away in a vault.  I want her to know how much she heals me with her affections, however distant we must keep them from prying eyes.  
                 The wet mark on my neck goes cold as her mouth leaves it.  Her hands squeal against the glass underside of the cockpit’s cover as she adjusts herself.  I sink into the chair, my sweating palms latching on her waist and slipping to her hips as she begins bouncing on my lap.  
                Her back bends and corrects itself.  Her hips roll with each, needing push.  The added weight that comes with her sitting upright allows me to reach deeper, but still, I can’t get close enough.  It’s never enough.  There is a constant need to be as close to her as possible.  
                My helmet hits the headrest, aiming at the ceiling. My teeth clench, and a bead of sweat rolls down my brow. I squeeze my eyes shut, relinquishing in how she’s able to push me to the brink of insanity with her body and mind.  
                She buries me inside her and lingers there, grinding my cock in every direction; every angle she can.  I snap awake, jerking forward.  Her ass kneads between my legs.  I cup each side with my hands, lifting it slightly to watch it sink on my dick over and over again.  
                The lips of her entrance glide along my shaft as she rocks her hips, her pace slow and torturous.  It’s all I can do to not cum inside her, then.  Her back twists, and she looks over her shoulder to _smile_ at me.  
                My core pinches.  My mind hazes.  It’s as if every blood vessel in my body surges below the belt.  
“Zara-“ I can barely pull her name back before it slips out.  
                My hands clamp to either side of her delicate jawline, my fingertips just brushing under her lips.  I point her face to the stars and begin ramming her.  
                I pull her down with all my strength, and use my legs to push her back up.  Every muscle in my body strains.  I am relentless as the shift in power sends lightning through my veins.  
                Faster.  Harder.  She’s almost there.  
“Don’t stop-“  The moans she struggles to mute are let loose once again.  
                I don’t want to.  I want to be stuck in a continuous loop of this very moment forever.  This moment where I feel perfectly vulnerable and complete and close to someone I-  
“Shaxx!”  
                My eyes shake as my cock is covered in her cum.  The sparks on her skin jump to mine.  The ice around my heart melts, escaping from its prison and threatening to jump.  
                I stop only long enough to grab her shoulders, pulling her back to me harder than I should have, like if I didn’t, someone would steal her away.  Her head meets the chair next to mine, and I embrace her in my arms as tight as I can without hurting her.  
                I plunge myself in her three more times, ending with a desperate release, my shuddering breath tickling the inside of my helmet.  
                She may be Awoken in nature, but it is I that undergoes an awakening.    
                The feeling that surrounds us is nameless, and my will to identify it is lost as the clock strikes twelve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mixed things up for the sake of Valentine's Day. Let me know what you think, or what you'd like to see in the future. :)


	4. Nova Mortis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"From the space between, I come. Fragments of stars burn in my footsteps. In my hands, I hold Death."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Plot chapter.**

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                emories of his touch cling to my skin.  The imprint he’s left brings a sense of peace and adoration.  For once in a long while, I don’t feel like Seraph and Ikora are the only beings who understand just _who I am._    
                I remind myself who’s company I keep, and suppress my happiness before it’s stolen.  Ikora drags her hands along my arms, smoothing the fabric I have yet to see.  A surprise, she had called it.  
“Open your eyes, Guardian.”  
                I do as she asks, my reflection in a mirror the first sight to greet me.  
                I am adorned in black robes, twisting with intricate designs and topped by a padded vest.  My new shoulder pads are lined with gold, as is the Warlock crest stitched over my heart.  Its wings are splayed across my chest, it’s talons ready to grasp its prey.  
                I look _powerful _.__  
“For my most esteemed protégé, and dear friend, Tess Everis suggested we mark the Crimson Days ‘with style.’  The defensive properties were Banshee’s doing.  They call the set, ‘Ego Talon.’”  Ikora offers me matching gloves, bridging them across her hands.  
                I pull each of them to my elbows, their golden hems stretching across my knuckles.  
“I am most appreciative, Master Rey.  ‘Thank you,’ does not suffice.”  
                I smile, something I don’t see myself doing too often.  She returns the rarity, folding her hands behind her back.  
“Finish dressing yourself, Guardian.”  
                A pair of armored boots lay at my feet.  I kneel to lace the thick straps across my shins.  The soles are etched with deep treads, surely to be useful in combat.  
                I stand to meet her at eye-level, “May I ask what I have done to deserve such a gift?”  
“Your ties to the Void strengthen.” Her footsteps are quiet as she walks to a table, pouring wine from a glass pitcher, “I always knew that you were different from the others, but I never understood my unease.”  
                Her back is turned to me before she stretches an arm, goblet in hand. I cup the bowl of it in my palms, awaiting her next words anxiously.  
“It is because your talents are endless, and _you_ , Zara, are unpredictable.”  Her cheery demeanor fades to one most inquisitive, “I sense him, you know.”  
                My heart sinks, preparing for scorn.  
“Declan.  The Exo Hunter.  Your chosen partner for the Crimson Days Crucible event.  You care for him.”  
                I am slightly relieved that she is misled by my newly-forged Bond’s recipient.  
“Yes.” I take a nervous gulp of wine, “Yes, I do.”  
                Her back presses against the wall, and she eyes me while taking a sip of her own drink, “A bond forged by the Void between a Warlock and their lover is a… _peculiar_ thing.  Those who have stared into the Void are not bound by the laws of space and time.  This form of love…It’s no different.”  
                I feel guilty for misleading her, but I cannot reveal my secret.  
“I’m not sure if ‘love,’ is the correct word for it…I’m not sure about _any_ of it.”  
”Do you remember when you took your first breath as a Stormcaller?  When you first sang your body electric?”  
                I recall the argument that ensued after I failed my attempts at attuning with either offering sides of the Warlock Order.  
“’Quiet,’ said the Voidwalkers.  ‘Louder,’ said the Sunsingers.  I tried to heed them both.” My fists tighten around the chalice, “When I felt anger, I smothered it with shame; when I felt peaceful, I drowned it in guilt.  And in so doing, I disappointed _everyone_ …”  
“Then came the hurricane.”  
                I look up to find a twinkle in her gaze.  
                My brows crease, my confidence restored, “First the rage, and then, the eye.  And I realized I need not choose between the calm and the storm.  Indeed, to have either, I must be both.”  
“And what did you do when you reached this realization?”  
“I took a deep breath.  Exhaled.  Felt the faintest breeze, a spark on the wind.  I breathed it in, _held_ it.  Quietly.  A positive charge, a cloudless sky…”  My skin prickles at the remembrance of feeling the Stormtrance, “I exhaled all at once in a peal of _thunder._   Electric potential, a charge in the air.  The next time I breathed in deep, ozone burned my lungs.  With my next exhale came the _lightning_.”  
                Ikora paces around me, circling me as if she was the spinning clouds of the storm, “Yours has been a difficult path – jagged, like lightning itself.  It is only the few who have the power to call down the storm.  I’ve not often seen this talent from one so young.”  She pauses, facing me directly, “What else can you do, I wonder?”  
                The way she looks at me is inspiring.  A slight tug comes from the muted strength of my Bond, and I hush it.  
“Whatever else the Void wishes to teach me.”  
“The Void does not give without taking.  Therefore, in order for the Void to teach you more abilities, you must teach yourself of the Void.  When you bring it to mind, what’s the first thing you think of?”  
                I dig deep into my lessons, finding the exact words I wish to convey.  
“’The Traveler came out of the Void that surrounds all things.  Thus, we know that the Void is full of power.  Thus, we enter the Void without fear.’  The teachings of Toland, the Shattered.”  
                Her brows raise in surprise, “An interesting choice of words, but an insightful string, nonetheless.  I ask you now, what _is_ the Void?  When you walk it, what is there to experience, as there is nothing to be seen in it?”  
                I focus on the rippling pool of wine, remembering the first time I traversed the sightless planes we can only hope to one day understand.  
“The vacuum between the stars.  The smell of rot.  The taste of metal.  The deafening roar that can only be heard when it is truly silent.”  
                Ikora nods, “The shamans of the old world were said to have covered their eyes, so they could see the dead.  I believe these men and women were the first to discover the power of the Void, and in the Traveler’s light we have succeeded in refining their methods in charting the courses they pioneered.”  
                She sets her goblet down, and places herself in front of me, “There is _always_ a path…but the cost…”  
                I gulp, frowning as I break away from her intense stare.  
“Small minds will call your abilities blasphemous.  They will compare you to the abominable Wizards of the Hive.”  
                I think back to the snide remarks made towards those of us who are tasked with honoring the Light in a different manner than brute force.  
“Will you show me how to harness the Void’s strength, Master Rey?”  
                She smirks, “I’m afraid there is little left I can teach you on the subject.  The Void will be your mentor, this time.”  
                My focus snaps to her, more hopeful than at first, “You wish me to walk the Void?”  
“I wish for you to _try_.  It holds the answers you seek, Guardian.”  
                She turns and picks up a glistening helmet, seemingly made of steel and stardust.  The face is formed by a black abyss, framed by gold.  The curved outline is interrupted by harsh ridges as if specially crafted to resemble metal feathers.  
                She places it in my palm, resting a hand on my shoulder.  
“When you Blink, you’ll know the way.”

__

 

…

 

                The Tower is painted in red, with rose petals scattered along the pavement.  Banners flutter in the sky, the emblem of the Crimson Days rippling on their faces.  I tuck my helmet between a folded arm and my hip, walking towards the mass of Guardians surrounding the Crucible launch pad.  
“That’s exactly why I call our meetings with Master Rey, ‘weird story time.’” Seraph’s light flickers with his voice, “No offense.”  
                I give him a sly grin, “Our meetings are rather intense, I’ll give you that.”  
                A hooded figure pokes his head from the crowd, and waves a hand enthusiastically over the sea of bobbing heads.  
“There’s Declan.” Seraph seems excited.  
“Let’s not keep him waiting any longer.”  
                Declan claws at the shoulders blocking his path, tripping in place and stumbling over disgruntled Guardians that scold him for being so obnoxious.  
“There you are!” He finally breaks the perimeter, running at me with a speed only a Hunter could master, “I’ve been lookin’ all over for you!”  
“Master Rey required an audience.”  
“Yeah, yeah…Whoa. Check you _out._  Very Warlock-y.”  
                I laugh, and flick the brim of the hood draping over his metal horn, “And this is very Hunter-y.”  
“Cayde likes it.” He reaches in his pocket, “Here’s your Crimson Bond, by the way.”  
                He flexes his arm, and the red mark glows over a band strapped to his bicep, “I already have mine.   You like?”  
“It looks like _all_ the Crimson Bonds, Declan…” I slide it over my sleeve, fastening it securely under the golden eagle Warlock Bond glowing just below my shoulder.  
“Hey, now it’s all pink and stuff.”  
                I grimace, “We’ll call it a light red.”  
                The wave of chatter silences behind him.  
                A man of fiery discipline ascends the stairs of a raised platform, his armor orange and white.  The fur on his collar shifts with his shoulders, and his stature renders the Guardians timid.  
“Shaxx is about to do the thing.” Declan slaps my shoulder, “Come on!”  
                I swallow hard before following him, taking my place along the edge of the crowd.  My heart races, and if I wasn’t already excited about the event, I would certainly be, now.  
                Shaxx plants his fists in his hips, aiming his helmet at a banner above him, “The Crimson Days…”  
                He paces along the edge of the long platform, looking down at the crowd, “We use this holiday to honor friendship.  Camaraderie.  Love…for those of us lucky enough to find it.”  
                It’s impossible to tell if he’s looking at me, but the slight hesitation after he utters the word dares me to raise my hopes.  
“Today is a celebration!” The fervor in his words return, and he raises his hands at his sides, “And oh, how I’ve _reveled_ in its making.  You, and your chosen partner – your Crimson Bond, will take on all comers in _my_ Crucible…To prove who’s Bond reigns supreme.”  
“That’s us.” Declan elbows me.  
“Shh!”  
                Shaxx lowers his voice, “Don’t do it for me, Guardians.  Do it for your Crimson Bond.”  
                With that, the crowd cheers.  The robotic undertones of Declan’s shouts hinder my ears, and I wince beside him.  
“You ready for this?!”  
                I ignore him briefly, smiling as Shaxx’s helmet points in my direction.  
“As always.”

 

…

 

                Our feet crunch the reddened leaves as we materialize on Mercury.  The falling Vex spires are drenched in dusk’s orange light, highlighting wisps of ash.  
                A timer starts on my HUD, and my scout rifle trembles in my hands.  
**“Friendship is a blunt instrument.  Use it to crush your enemies.”**  
                With Shaxx’s announcement, I am slightly unnerved.  
                This is something I rarely feel in the Crucible.  To know he is watching, now that I have gained his attention…  
                Somehow, maintaining it seems harder.  
“Let’s roll!” Declan cocks his shotgun, and plows ahead.  
_“The Void will be your mentor, this time.”_  
                Ikora’s words of encouragement echo, and my withholdings are paid in full.  
“Right behind you, Declan.”

 

…

 

                They have us pinned down, firing from the opposite end of a corridor.  
“Sending out Swarm Grenade!” Declan peaks to launch his ordinance, taking a shot to the arm in the process.  
“We’ve got to get that Titan down!”  I summon a healing rift, closing his wounds.  
“Kinda hard when he’s got a shield!”  
                His grenade explodes, sending his seeking drones up and over the blue wall that prevents our push forward.  They connect, rendering the Titan defeated.  
**"First Blood goes to you! They'll seek retribution for this."**  
                I purse my lips at Declan, firing my rifle down the hall.  
“Show off.”  
“You’re one to talk!”  He joins me in shooting.  
                The remaining Warlock launches his own grenade, bursting in fire and singeing our helmets with heat.  
**"Let them burn in your light."**  
                Hearing Shaxx motivate the enemy fuels me with rage, as if he was encouraging my defeat.  
“Out Warlock him, Xoj!”  
                The Void’s hunger makes my stomach churn, chewing on it’s lining and starving my soul.  My hand takes on a faint glow, and I roll my shoulder off the corner to send an Axion Bolt down the corridor.  
                My consciousness is split in multiple parts, and the world ripples in purple light.  The experience is new.  I see through the Void as bolts of its Light seek a Guardian to devour.  
                I guide them over the shield, and find the Warlock hugging the corner, peaking and ducking as a bullet from Declan’s hand cannon ricochets off the edge.  My fist tightens, and the bolts converge.  
                The Warlock is damaged, but drops a healing rift to save himself.  
**“I know that’s not the best you’ve got!”**  
                My mind returns to its confines, and my anger grows.  
                I grab my rifle with both hands, charging the corridor alone.  
“Zara, what are you doing!”  
                I’m unsure of my reckless push, as I am without cover and blocking Declan’s ability to shoot.  The Warlock’s helmet is barely visible, the scope of his gun twinkling just out of reach.  
                He’s aiming at me.  
**_“When you Blink, you’ll know the way.”_**  
                I jump.  My body twists.  I disappear into the Void.  
                It’s dark, and the world that once surrounded me becomes a vision through a glass floor.  My footsteps send white ripples through the darkness.  They cling to a figure, highlighting the enemy.  
                Mercury implodes, and I am grounded with reality.  The Warlock is confused.  
  
_“Feed from his Light.”_  
  
                My palm snaps forward, and he is stunned.  His Light drains from his essence, and I feel an evil smile curl on my lips as his life fuels me through the Void.  A slight pop comes from within him.  
                The Warlock is slain, and yet, my hunger is insatiable.  
**“Your enemy can’t kill if they’re dead!”** Shaxx laughs in my earpiece.  
                The compliment is a momentary distraction.  
                I take cover as bullets clank against the surrounding walls.  The enemy Titan returns to the fray, Void Light trickling from his limbs.  I am struck several times, the wounds searing in my stomach as I bleed in reprieve.  
                Declan barrels from around the corner, jumping in the air to avoid being shot.  
“I’ve got you covered!”  
                He launches a rocket at the Titan, earning another point for our team.  
**"Regroup and combine your efforts. Or suffer the consequences."** Shaxx scolds the enemy team for charging while divided.  
                The Warlock’s stolen energy trembles in my palm, and my fingers spread wide as the power is almost too much for me to bare.  Refusing to let it escape, I use all my strength to squeeze my hand shut.  I devour his captured Light, and my wounds are healed.  
                I embrace the malicious thrill that is being a Voidwalker.

 

…

 

 **“You and your partner have match point. Finish this!  Do it for each other!”** Shaxx encourages us as we proceed during the final round.  
                Declan runs at my side, our weapons drawn, ready for a quick match against an inferior Fireteam.  But they seem to have learned from their mistake of pushing separately.  
                They dash through a maze of winding passageways and choke points, the Titan leading the charge.  Declan and I combine our fire, and they are forced to hunker down.  
“Hey, you got your moment of glory.” Declan pulls his sword from his back, “Gonna let me have mine?”  
                I grin, and aim down my sights, “Be my guest.”  
                His steps are quiet as he runs towards the corner where the enemy Guardians linger.  
**“Hope you know how to use that thing.”**  
                I take a shot at the peaking Warlock, forcing him back behind the wall from which he hides.  
“Don’t worry,” I reload my rifle, “He does.”  
                I’m unsure if Shaxx can hear me, but I hope so.  
                Declan disappears behind the sharp turn.  A point appears on my HUD as the Warlock’s body falls to the floor.  Shots leave blazing trails as they’re fired from just out of view, and I hope Declan _actually_ knows what he’s doing.  My doubt is snuffed as the shots cease.  The Titan is pinned to the wall by Declan’s sword.  
**“This is amazing!”** Shaxx lets loose an earth-shattering laugh.  
                Declan pulls his blade from the Titan’s chest, and the corpse disappears, “Can you believe he doubted me?”  
                I grin, “Not even the slightest.”  
**“30 seconds!”**  
                A red indicator swivels on my HUD, and I cock my chin at its direction, “They’ve respawned.”  
“Let’s go…uh, despawn them?”

 _“Hold back.”_  
  
                My brows crease at the sudden warning from the Void; a tug in my stomach that urges me to hold my position.  
“Declan, wait!”  
                A purple light fills the hall.  Sounds of igniting fire quickly follow.  I dash around the corner, ready to defend my partner.  But he’s glowing orange, aiming a Golden Gun at the Titan whose arm is cranked behind his back.  He launches a shield crafted from Void Light as Declan takes his shot.  
                The Titan is reduced to ashes as he is struck, but his shield finds Declan in the chaos.  He fades to white light, and my partner is defeated.  
**"I can't believe what I'm seeing!"**  
The Warlock and I shoot at each other, both abandoned by our partners.  
**“I should expect these by now…But I don’t.”**   Shaxx sighs before yelling in the comms, **“Tiebreaker active!  You have one last shot at survival!”**  
“Damn it!  We don’t have time for a third round.  I’m trying to make it back to the Tower before the ramen shop closes!” Declan whines.  
“We wil-“  
                The Warlock’s fists curl at his sides, and his chest aims high as he’s lifted from the ground.  He floats gracefully on burning wings, shoulders hulking and ready to set me ablaze.  
                A Sunsinger.  
                The art of embracing flames that not even the Darkness can extinguish, one I have tried and failed to master.  
                He slings a ball of fire that envelopes the pass between us.  I close my eyes, willing my body to go anywhere but there.  I cry for help, and the Void answers.  
                It’s warm.  It burns hotter than the first time I was touched by Skolas’s Scorch Cannon.  While it’s true that the flames of war that reside in Shaxx’s mind intrigue me, this Warlock’s do not…He who has taken to a skill that I have failed repeatedly.  
                His audacity fuels the envy that clouds my judgement and pushes me to him farther.

  
_“End them.”_  
  
                The Titan has returned, shielding his friend.  Declan’s shouts come in gargled words.  He has respawned, but he is outnumbered.  Only through skill is he not overwhelmed.  
                I rise with new purpose, and push forward.  Light surrounds me, accumulating in my palm.  The Void is willing.  _Too_ willing. Still, I do not question what I do not understand.  
                I appear behind them, and the Void rewards me for my obedience.  
                Light trickles from my shoulder, and I pull my arm back.  I send forth every lash, every curse, every touch of malice that they first dealt to me.  
                The blast seeks them, a purple orb that dives to the ground.  Their figures disappear within it, and claims their Light as its own.  
**“Call the Praxic Order!  Call the Thanatonauts!  The Gensym Scribes!  Call EVERYONE – so they can witness _you_!”**  
                The timer hits zero, and my team finishes with a point in the lead.

 

…

 

                The Tower Watch is busy when we return.  Tessa and Ivan join us at the landing pad, smiling ear-to-ear.  
“Holy shit, guys!  We watched the whole thing after our match was over, and-“  Tessa was speaking so quickly I could barely keep up.  
“Declan, the way you cut them down with your sword!  And Zara, since when are you a _Voidwalker_?!”  Ivan yells in excitement.  
“Easy, easy…” Declan lowers his hands, “I’ve got a killer headache.”  
“Come on, let’s go watch the rest of the matches.” Tessa beckons us, “They’ve got them streaming live at the shop!”  
                I smile gently, “Right behind you.”  
                Food that doesn’t involve ripping Light from Guardians sounds pleasant.

 

…

 

                We sit for hours, bowls of ramen in our laps.  Declan’s slurping rises with each onscreen kill.  I even begin cheering alongside the others by the time the event comes to an end.  
“Awh, that’s it?” Tessa stretches, “There aren’t any more?”  
“Tess, we watched like 100 matches.” Ivan rolls his eyes, “I don’t think I could’ve sat there for much longer.”  
“How’d you guys do, anyway?” Declan asks.  
                Tessa rolls her shoulders, “We won.  Duh?”  
                I chuckle to myself, shaking my head.  I feel a burning stare on my back, and look over my shoulder.  
“Uh, guys…I’ll catch up with you later.”  
“Huh?” Declan looks at the direction I’m focused on, “Oh.  Yeah.  Have fun sucking up.”  
                He waves me off lazily, and I ignore his insult.  
                Shaxx is standing idly outside of his private Crucible viewing area, locking the door behind him.  He secures the key to his hip, and turns to face me as I approach.  
“The world was on your shoulders, and still, you triumphed… _Marvelous_.” He whispers.  
                The warmness in his voice fills my chest with heat, and despite being sore from the day’s activities, I have yet to fully meet _all_ of my needs.  
 “You two remind me of Lady Efrideet and myself.  She was my partner, once.  She likes to throw Titans.  And some Titans, _like_ to be thrown.”  
                I let out a small laugh, “Are you referring to when she threw Lord Saladin into an onslaught of Fallen?”  
“I am.” He follows with a low chuckle, “Ah…I haven’t seen a firefight like _yours_ since Twilight Gap.”  
                I swallow hard, unable to accept the compliment without feeling a tinge of his own remorse.  
“Thank you.”  
                He lifts his chin, and cocks his head, “Tell me.  What are your plans for the rest of the evening, Guardian?”  
                I blink rapidly, my face hot, “I…I don’t have any.”  
                He looks at his feet, kicking the air as he stretches his knee.  
“You do now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>   
>  *Ikora and Zara opening dialogue taken from the subclass quest lines in Destiny 2.  
>   
> *"Of Steel and Stardust," references my Titanfall x Fallout 4 crossover fic.  
>   
> *"Touch of Malice," line taken from the Touch of Malice description from Destiny 1. This chapter was originally going to be named after the scout rifle, but was changed to Nova Mortis to fit a pattern you'll see later on.

**Author's Note:**

> (I do not own and did not create any of the artwork used. I simply found them on Google Images. Any signatures or tags left in said artwork are for this reason.)


End file.
